The Very Nicest Arguments
by WeAsLeYkid8
Summary: Amelia and Delbert have a little (read: big) fight on their 5th anniversary which makes them really think about what they've done for each other.


Disclaimer: All characters you recognize = Property of Disney; All others = Property of Me.   
  
Author's Note: Hey! My first author's note at the BEGINNING of a story! Anyway, this is a short fic I wrote primarily because Tmyres got on my butt and begged me to. So if it sucks, blame her ;). It wasn't supposed to be this long...but, I'm verbose. Anyway, if you've never read a fic of mine before, here's the scoop. This thing is laden w/ flashbacks, and, as I am web-illiterate, they are separated from the present story by rather large spaces (ie. greater than two lines). Anyway--happy reading!  
  
Snow was already beginning to settle on the ground outside as Delbert Doppler stared nervously at the grandfather clock in the front entranceway of the mansion. It was half past seven--already an hour and a half late from when Amelia had quoted her arrival time. He had worked nearly three hours on dinner for her--it was their 5th anniversary, and, though she had plans to set off for Gondaria the day after, they had agreed to have a nice, quiet evening together tonight and wait until her return to "celebrate." Instead of the nice candlelight dinner he had planned for two, and the two or three hours of piece and quiet they would get while Sarah watched the children, he was now pacing the foyer, wondering where in the name of all that was good and holy his wife could be. He glimpsed at the clock a second time, paced back, forth, and back again, then took another glance. This ritual continued for nearly ten minutes: Pace, pace, pace, scowl at clock. He was near about frustrated enough to throw the entire timepiece across the room when the front doorknob turned. His ears perked up slightly at the sound, and he waited for his beloved to waltz in, albeit late. No captain entered the room, and Delbert frowned when Sarah walked through the door with his children in tow.  
  
"Hi, Delbert," she said, holding the door open so that the girls behind her could make their way into the warm house, "My goodness, it's cold outside!"  
  
Delbert watched as his blonde daughter, Celeste, shrugged off her coat and left it on the floor in a puddle of snow and cloth, only to throw herself at her father's legs in a knee-cap busting hug.  
  
"Hi, Daddy!" she beamed up at him, "I finished all my vegetables and my studies! Ask Miss Sarah!"  
  
Delbert felt a tug on his arm and look down to see the red-headed Kate grinning up at him. "I ate my vegetables, and did all my studies, AND I got a gold star on my letters today in school," she said, to which she received a glare from her sister for standing her up.  
  
"Well I," Delbert's eldest, Victoria, a brunette, said as she gracefully hung her coat on the shiny gold coat rack at the entrance, "I did all those things AND I got to be the teacher's helper because she said I had the best letters out of the whole class!" She gave her sisters a grin that clearly said, "Beat that." Kate and Celeste both growled softly at her.  
  
"And you?" Delbert asked his son, Samuel, as he struggled out of his winter coat. The boy frowned at the very thought of having to relay his school day, a facial action which quickly melted into a scowl as his sisters giggled.  
  
"I'm a freak," Sam said simply. At this, the girls burst into hysterical giggles.  
  
Delbert blinked once at his son. "A freak? Why?"  
  
"Apparently he's having trouble writing. It's customary to teach handwriting in a very standardized way," Sarah explained, "Turns out Sam here goes against the grain."  
  
Delbert looked at her questioningly as Tori spoke.   
  
"He doesn't even know which HAND to use! Are you sure he's not adopted, Daddy?"  
  
"He's left handed," Sarah clarified. "All handwriting courses are taught so that the students write with their right hand. Or hands in some species' case."  
  
"Ah, I see," Delbert nodded. "My fault, I suppose, I'm a lefty myself. Blasted school systems turned me somewhat ambidextrous, I guess. Took quite a few raps to the knuckle with a ruler until I finally got it right, as I recall."  
  
"What's amdadestrus?" Celeste asked, looking up at her father.  
  
"Does that mean you're weird too, Daddy?" Kate enquired.  
  
"Can we hit Sam with rulers?" Tori said, a twinge of excitement in her voice. Sam stepped back until he was fully hidden by Sarah.  
  
"No, we won't be starting any such fighting in this house," Delbert said sternly, "Now, say 'goodnight' and 'thank you' to Sarah."  
  
"Goodnight, Miss Sarah!"  
  
"Thank you for helping us with our studies, Miss Sarah!"  
  
"Thank you for the chocolate cake!"  
  
"Can I go home with you, Miss Sarah?" Sam asked, all the while staring at his sisters, who looked like they were just itching to raid their father's study for school supplies and start assaulting him.  
  
"No, dear, not tonight," Sarah said, kissing him on the forehead.  
  
"Thank you for all the trouble, Sarah," Delbert addressed her.  
  
"No trouble. I trust you two had a nice evening?"  
  
"Uhhh…not entirely."  
  
"Why? What happened?" Sarah asked as she watched the children take off for the den in the next room.  
  
"Well…she didn't show."  
  
Sarah's mouth formed a small "o" as thought of what to say to console her long-time friend. "Well…I'm sure she had a perfect explanation for it…"  
  
"Yeah," Delbert grumbled, "I really am looking forward to seeing just what was so important that it overshadowed our anniversary."  
  
Sarah grimaced. Delbert was clearly angry and hurt, and there was little she thought she could do to rectify the situation. "Well, I hope it works out," she said as she tightened her scarf around her neck and opened the door. Delbert watched her leave and shut the door behind her, further preventing the frigid air from blending with the warm house air. Delbert sighed and turned toward the den, where the girls were playing with dolls on the floor while Sam was perched in front of his school tablet, trying to write a straight, neat uppercase "A" with his right hand.  
  
"Alright now," Delbert said, "time for bed."  
  
"Awwwww, how come?" Tori protested as she finished slipping a blue shoe on her doll.  
  
"Because it's bedtime; now upstairs, all of you," he replied sternly. Tori exchanged looks with her other sisters; it was clear that their father was unhappy about something, and the three of them silently agreed not to test his patience today. Almost as one, they rose from the floor, placed their dolls in the toy chest in the corner and filed out of the room toward the stairs, their brother in tow, who was squinting at the paper he had written on, hoping that the decline in light would somehow make his lines look straighter than they appeared in the lamplight. Delbert watched as the four of them trudged up the steps, only opening his mouth to tell them to make sure they washed their faces and brushed their teeth, and to warn Sam that reading and climbing a staircase didn't mix well. He watched them disappear into the main hallway upstairs, just as he heard the doorknob turn again. He whirled to face it, waiting to see Amelia on the other end. However, it wasn't his feline wife who had entered, rather it was Jim Hawkins carrying a large stack of books.  
  
"Hey, Doc," he said, "Door was unlocked. Hope you don't mind."  
  
"No," Delbert said distractedly, "Not at all. What are all those?"  
  
"The books you lent me for that report in my 'Astrophysics for Navigation' class. I figured since I was here for the weekend, I'd return them."  
  
"Oh. Right. Thank you."  
  
"Where do you want me to put them?" Jim asked, peering over the top of the stack at the Canid.  
  
"The den will be fine, Jim. There's a bookshelf with some of my things already in there. Place them there if you would."  
  
Jim nodded at him, then retreated to the den to deposit the reading material.   
  
************  
  
It had been a long, hard day for Amelia, who was still trying to work out the kinks in the job she was hired for, which would set sail in only 14 hours. The contractors she had hired to re-do parts of the deck took three hours longer than they had originally quoted her, and, despite her insistence that they "hurry it up before we all fall dead of old age," they nonetheless took their sweet time in replacing some of the older boards. Add to that that her client had decided last minute to change the nature of the cargo--namely he wanted to add some precious Bolorkian Herpa plants, which were considered illegal in some ports along their designated route. Thus Amelia had spent the good second half of her afternoon arguing with the indecisive man that he could either have the short route they planned, or the plants transported--they couldn't do BOTH. After they had drawn up a new route-- ones she had to wait three hours to get proper clearance credentials for-- she had hopped a late shuttle back home to Montressor. She knew and regretted that she was already late for the dinner she and her husband had planned for their anniversary, and the fact that the shuttle was delayed in landing back home and that she couldn't find a taxi for nearly 45 minutes just added to her frustration. So here she was, ascending the steps to her home as she pulled her jacket closer to her, as she had left her woolen coat back on the Legacy by mistake. She pushed open the door and shut it behind her, only to be greeted by her husband, who seemed shocked to see her suddenly appear before he glowered at her.  
  
"You're late," he growled.   
  
This introduction threw Amelia for a loop. Normally her husband was a kind, gentle man, who would greet her with a smile and a loving kiss. THIS man, however, seemed to have replaced the docile Canid for the evening, and Amelia was in no mood to deal with the strange alter-ego of Dr. Doppler. "I'm fully aware," she answered, hanging her coat up, and scooping up her daughter's coats from off the floor and placing them in their proper location, "And good evening to you too."  
  
"You're AWARE?" Delbert asked, incredulously. "You're two hours late for a dinner I worked on all day for our ANNIVERSARY and all you have to say is, 'I'm AWARE?'"  
  
Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose. After a day like this one, the last thing she wanted to do is argue with her husband, especially with a pounding headache coming on and a mission to leave for early the next morning. "Well, what do you want me to say?"  
  
"How about, 'I'm sorry, Delbert. I didn't mean to forget these plans that were VERY IMPORTANT to you.'"  
  
Amelia scoffed. "I didn't forget. I had contractors and clientele to meet with. I tried to make it back, but it was out of my hands! It was important that I finished up this stuff before the trip."  
  
"More important than tonight? You tell me you can only spend one night with me for our wedding anniversary because of some cargo transport and you felt that discussing some minor details with some windbag customer meant more to you than allowing me that one evening?"  
  
"Minor details?!" Amelia exclaimed, hands on her hips, her eyes flashing dangerously, "You, Delbert Doppler, have no IDEA what sort of ridiculous nonsense I've had to deal with today! If you had HALF an idea of all the grief I've had to sort out…"  
  
"And 'ridiculous nonsense' warranted blowing me off."  
  
"Oh, come off it!" she spat, "You're acting like a child!"  
  
"ME? At least I can fulfill my promises like an adult! I turned down a lecture series at the University so I could be here this week to plan this! And what do I have to show for it?"  
  
"Oh, and dealing with irrational merchants, bureaucrats, and malfunctioning shuttles was EXACTLY how I wanted to spend my evening!"  
  
"Well it certainly beats the hell out of sitting here alone, waiting for your wife--who said she'd be home at 18 00 hours--to waltz through the door whenever she decided to stop playing Captain!"  
  
"PLAYING?!" she bellowed, "The NERVE of you, Delbert Doppler! You wouldn't know the half of what goes into my job! If you want to talk about PLAYING, why don't we talk about the man who toys around with his telescopes and star charts all day!"  
  
Delbert pursed his lips in a tight line, his eyes a confusing mixture of anger and hurt. In the heat of the moment, though, he let his anger win out, and stood ram-rod straight.  
  
Four sets of eyes peered through the rails of the staircase to watch the sparing adults. It wasn't very often that the Doppler children saw their parents fight, and it was the first time they saw them fight this long, and this loud.   
  
Jim Hawkins had heard the argument that was ensuing from the next room, and, in the dead silence that had fallen in the midst of it, he decided to bail for the door while he could. He passed the feuding couple as quietly as possible, hoping to avoid making eye contact with either one of them. His escape did not go unnoticed by Amelia, however, who was shocked to see her former cabin boy in her home.  
  
"Mr. Hawkins? What are you doing here?" she asked as Jim reached the doorway.   
  
  
  
"Uh...I'm....just leaving...bye!" With that, Jim rushed outside, freeing himself from the possibility of being caught in the middle of what was proving to be a volatile argument. The door slammed shut behind him, and the only sound that could be heard for a few precious quiet moments was that of Jim's boots running down the steps of the mansion in retreat.   
  
"What was that all about?" Amelia pondered, half to herself.  
  
"He was returning books I lent him," Doppler sneered, "Like the ones you think I waste my time on all day."  
  
Amelia groaned. "Are we back on that?"  
  
"Yes! I'll have you know I worked eight long years on my doctorate--"  
  
"--Working and competing with some of the best in the business...yes, we've heard this story a thousand times, Delbert. I can't say it's helping my migraine any," she interrupted.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry that I bore you, CAPTAIN," Delbert snarled.  
  
"You and me both, DOCTOR," she spoke as she massaged the bridge of her nose with her right thumb and forefinger, "Now if you're done being petulant, I think I'll head to bed." With that, she began to head up the stairs.  
  
Doppler sputtered a few times before managing to spit out his words. "PETULANT?" he roared, "I devote all my time and efforts to this evening and I'm supposed to feel good that you couldn't care less about our anniversary?"  
  
Amelia froze on the third step up and whirled around to face him. "WHAT did you say?" she growled.  
  
"I-I said that I'm appalled that you've apparently seen it acceptable to disregard the commemoration of our vows."  
  
Amelia's eyes narrowed, and her body shook in a strange combination of pent-up emotion and raw anger. "I can not believe you just said that--that you would accuse me of that. Sleep alone tonight, you mongrel." With that, she stormed up the stairs for their bedroom. The children, who had watched the whole scene, scurried away to their bedrooms, not wanting to get caught in Amelia's path.  
  
Delbert stood there, dumbfounded, angry, confused--but mostly angry, then turned toward the front door, grabbed his long gray overcoat, and left the house, slamming the door behind him as he skulked out into the snow.  
  
**********  
  
He had chosen to go to the Benbow--it had closed for the evening nearly thirty minutes ago, but he was nonetheless positive he would find Sarah cleaning up the dining room in preparation for the next day. True to his prediction, she was bussing one of the last tables as he silently entered. She did not turn to acknowledge him, and he did not interrupt her work. When she was done dressing the table, she turned around, shrieking in surprise at her unannounced visitor.  
  
"Delbert!" she exclaimed, dropping the extra utensils she had in her hand. After the initial shock wore off, she placed a hand to her chest, just above her heart, in order to illustrate the extent to which he had frightened her. "You really mustn't sneak up on a woman like that."  
  
"Sorry," he muttered, shifting his stance slightly.  
  
"It's a little late to be out, Delbert. What brings you here?"  
  
"Amelia finally showed up," he sighed, removing his coat and folding it over one arm.  
  
"And?" Sarah said, picking up the silverware off the floor.  
  
"We had a little...huge fight."  
  
"A little huge fight?" Sarah inquired. She pulled out a seat at a nearby table and gestured for him to do the same. Delbert took his seat across from her and stared at the lavender tablecloth.  
  
"It was quite a row," he said, tracing small circles in the purple cloth, "But I still maintain that it was her fault! She knew about our plans! She chose to stay at that blasted dock!"  
  
Sarah raised her eyebrows at her longtime friend. "Oh, come now, Delbert. You and I both know Amelia's not that callous, even if she might want others to think she is. I doubt she did that intentionally."  
  
He looked uninsured as Sarah continued.  
  
"I'm sure she had a good explanation. What excuse did she give you?"  
  
"She said she had trouble with an unreasonable client and some bureaucrats. Then she said the shuttle back home were running behind."  
  
Sarah laughed, a gesture which made Delbert frown. "That doesn't sound at all plausible to you?"  
  
"Well...well maybe. But that STILL doesn't excuse the fact that she could have called it a day and come home."  
  
"Perhaps," Sarah said thoughtfully, "She DID know you were cooking, and she DID know that you wanted to spend time with you before she left. She might have made a special effort to be on time--goodness knows she assertive enough."  
  
"Exactly," Delbert said, grinning with self-satisfaction.  
  
"On the other hand," Sarah said, "She only did what any good businesswomen would do--no customer, no forms, no mission. Plus, there's no evidence that she DIDN'T try to get out of there on time. Plus, Jim tells me that the shuttles have been running behind all week."  
  
Delbert bit his lip. "Sarah, she was prepared to chose her ship before me."  
  
"Did she actually say that?"  
  
"Well, no, but..."  
  
Sarah smiled. "Delbert, you know how dedicated Amelia is to her job. But despite that love, she's spent little time doing it. And, why? Because she's dedicated a good deal of that time to making you happy. After all, Delbert, she uprooted herself and moved to Montressor for you, defied some of her family members and married you, bore you four lovely children --which might I add is no easy task--, and otherwise adjusted her spacer lifestyle in order to be with you and the kids. She's given quite a lot to the marriage, Delbert, and I don't think you'd get that kind of devotion from someone who would put you anywhere but first in her life."  
  
Delbert fell silent for a moment, thinking of what Sarah had said. His advisor rose from the table. "I'm going to make some coffee. Would you like some?"  
  
"Oh...yes, thank you," Delbert muttered. He watched as Sarah floated to the kitchen in order to get them drinks; during this time alone, he further thought about the points Sarah had made. Amelia really HAD done a lot for him. It was true that some of her family now avoided their "strange" member like the plague. It was true that Amelia often spent more time at home than amongst the stars. He remembered the very day that his children arrived Amelia had performed her tasks admirably and with a dignity that Delbert had always admired and envied.  
  
  
  
"Well, the boy's health's a little shaky, but nothing catastrophic--we often see this with a multiple birth. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon to check on the whole brood," Dr. Steven Delmar said as he shoved his stethoscope into his bag. Because his partner in the practice had been out setting a broken arm at the time, Dr. Delmar had been called upon to deliver the Doppler babies. There were four in all, three girls, all with powerful wails, and a boy, who seemed slightly lethargic at the moment, but nonetheless had the strength to protest his involvement in the process with a series of cries and whimpers. "Amelia should rest now. Bed rest for the next 24 hours--and you can tell your wife that I MEAN it."   
  
  
  
Delbert let out a nervous laugh as he led the doctor to the front door. "Yes, well...I'll see what I can do."  
  
Delmar smiled at him. "Yes, Amelia is quite...spirited. You're going to have your hands full, Doppler. Really, though, she should rest--she'll have PLENTY to do in a few days." He stopped at entrance to the main hallway which led to the stairs. "Well, I can see myself out from here; go check up on that wife of yours."  
  
"O-oh. Alright. Thank you again."  
  
"Just doing my job. Congratulations again."  
  
"Th-thanks."  
  
Dr. Delmar smiled before turning and taking his leave down the marvelous marble main staircase. Doppler turned in the opposite direction and followed the velvety red carpet to the set of chestnut doors that led to his bedroom. He pushed one of the doors open, wincing as it creaked slightly. He let his gaze wander to the large bed on the far wall where Amelia was sound asleep. She was normally a very light sleeper, so the fact that the noise hadn't disturbed her only accentuated the fact that the whole ideal had utterly exhausted her. He crept into the room silently, trying not to scuff his feet on the wood floor or cough or breathe too loudly. He had almost made it across the room when his careful stepping failed him and he tripped, flying face-first into the dark wood bedpost at the foot of the bed. Whether it was the *thump* from the collision, the jolting of the bed, or his muffled groans of pain that woke her, he didn't know, but he instantly felt guilty. Amelia sat up in bed quickly, hissing in pain as she went. She glared at the source of the noise initially, but her expression softened when she saw her husband pulling himself off the floor.  
  
"Are you alright?" she called, her voice thick with sleep.  
  
Doppler stumbled to his feet as he tried to right his glasses on his nose. "I-I don't know what I tripped on."   
  
"I'm going to go with the rug," Amelia smiled. She studied him as he brushed himself off. "Oh! You're bleeding."  
  
Delbert reached up to touch his forehead, which was now oozing blood from a small abrasion. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief in an effort to quickly clean up the result of his clumsiness.   
  
"You're not getting it all," Amelia muttered, "No...you have a smear on your temple...no, your OTHER temple...Oh! Come here!" She waved him over to the bed, where he sat and allowed her to clean him up. She wiped the remainder of blood from his cut, then leaned over to kiss his forehead. "Oooooh, poor dear," she cooed.  
  
"What? No jabs at my clumsiness?" Delbert snickered.  
  
"Ah, you must remember I'm slightly tired."  
  
Delbert blushed. "Sorry for waking you."  
  
She waved a hand at him. "Think nothing of it. Those little monsters will wake me up in exponentially greater numbers than you could ever hope to," she said, gesturing to the children, who were sleeping quietly in their bassinettes on the other end of the room. Despite her complaints, her eyes betrayed that she really wouldn't mind all the disturbance. He'd never make her ADMIT it, though. After all, the Captain still had a rep to protect. "Come, dear," she yawned, lying back on her pillow and closing her eyes, "You're obviously overtaxed--come nap with me."  
  
Silently, he complied, lying carefully next to his wife, who pulled his arm so that it draped gracefully over her body. He was almost asleep when he heard her laugh softly.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"I can't believe you hit the bedpost....you didn't dent it did you? It IS an antique."  
  
Delbert frowned, then laughed. "Good to know you care."  
  
"Always, Delbert. Always."  
  
"Delbert?" Sarah's voice shook him out of his reverie. "Did you want sugar in your coffee?"  
  
"Oh! Uh...oh, yes please. One lump."  
  
Sarah gave him his order then sat again. "Have you thought it over?"  
  
Delbert sighed. "You're right--she HAS given quite a bit for me. And she is a marvelous wife."  
  
Sarah nodded. "You have every right to be mad, Delbert, but I still think you were a little harsh on her."  
  
He swallowed, deep in thought. "Yes. I do suppose implying that she didn't care about our anniversary WAS a little out of line."  
  
Sarah's eyes widened. "Delbert, you DIDN'T!"  
  
Doppler raised his hands in front of himself in defense. "I said it in the heat of the moment!"  
  
Sarah rubbed her left temple, giving her friend a look somewhere between scolding and disappointment. "What did Amelia say?"  
  
"Apparently I'm sleeping in my study tonight."   
  
Sarah winced. "Serves you right, Delbert Doppler! That was totally insensitive. You basically called her 'a horrible, unloving wife.'"  
  
"Oh, come, it didn't sound that bad. I meant nothing of the sort."  
  
Sarah shook her head. "I know you love her, Delbert. You've got some serious making up to do...forgive and forget--yes, she was late, but you've both done wrong tonight. Now you still have..." she threw a glance to the clock in the corner, "...roughly 3 hours left of your anniversary. Go and reconcile with her."  
  
"Do you think she'll hear me out?"  
  
Sarah smiled. "She'll put up a fight, but we both know she'll want to listen deep down." She placed her hand on Delbert's shoulder and shooed him out the door of the inn. "A nice 'forgive me, I was wrong' gift couldn't hurt either," she winked.  
  
Delbert nodded. "Ah, yes." He turned around in the doorway and faced Sarah. "Thank you for all your advice."  
  
"Any time," she said, patting his cheek, "Now go! You're letting all the cold air into my warm inn!"  
  
Delbert laughed and headed for his carriage. Delilah was as happy to see her master as ever, and tried furiously to twist in her reigns and offer Doppler a sloppy "kiss" as he sat in the driver's seat. He nudged her along, and it wasn't long before he was heading away from the inn, sauntering away until it was nothing but a little speck on a snow-covered hill. As he traveled along into town, thinking of the best way to apologize to his wife for his harsh words, he found himself thinking of her again. The more he recalled their past together, the more he felt guilty about yelling at her--Sarah was right, he was wrong, and neither feeling contributed in any way to making him feel better in the cold frost of the evening. He began to ponder various trinkets he could bring her as a means of a peace-offering, but nothing stuck out in his mind. The bitter chill in the wind beat at his face, numbing his nose, and he resolved that he'd better think hard and fast, for the shops would close shortly and the cold was becoming bone-chilling. He sneezed once into the wind. He sincerely hoped he wasn't coming down with anything--the last time he had gotten really ill was almost three years ago in the late winter months. He had somehow contracted the flu, a sickness his body had never really taken well.  
  
Amelia rushed into the nursery as Victoria sent up a cry to notify the adults in the house that she was wide awake and ready to leave the confinements of her crib. When Amelia entered the room, Tori was sitting in the dead center of the mattress, calling out until she caught view of her mother, at which time she promptly shut her mouth and smiled. Amelia rolled her eyes and removed the 14 month old from her crib. It was then that she noticed that the other three were also up--Celeste was giggling quietly as she cuddled her stuffed animal, Kate was peering out the window by her crib, watching the snow fall, and Sam was standing, arms stretched toward her, waiting to be held. It would be a task to take care of them all today--Delbert had fallen ill last night with a rather terrible bout of flu, and was currently confined to his warm bed as he tried to fight off his chills and aching muscles. By some miraculous feat of balance, she was able to take all four children in her arms--she was only thankful that they were fairly small--and waltz downstairs to the kitchen, where she deposited each child in a highchair and presented each with a small spoon and a bowl of lukewarm oatmeal. Tori dug in, spooning the breakfast into her mouth as daintily as her pudgy baby hands would allow. Celeste proceeded to dip her fingers into the mush and squish it in her fist several times before stuffing what was left into her mouth. Kate looked at the bowl, then at her mother, then said, "Daddy?"  
  
"No, sweetheart. Daddy's sick. He's sleeping."  
  
"Slweeping?"  
  
"Yes. His tummy hurts."  
  
"Kiss 'im?" she asked, eager to cure her father's ails in the same way that he cured all her bumps and scrapes.  
  
"We'll give him kisses a little later; now eat your breakfast, Katie," her mother replied.  
  
Satisfied with this answer, the girl proceeded to eat. Amelia turned her gaze to her son, who had pushed his bowl away and was resting his head on the tray. Frowning, she made her way over to the boy, who grimaced as his mother brushed his bangs out of his face.  
  
"What's wrong, dearest?" she cooed.  
  
"Tummmmmy," he groaned, clutching his stomach in illustration. Amelia frowned deeper and touched a hand to his forehead.   
  
"Oh. You must be coming down with something too. Let's put you back to bed with a bottle, okay darling?" She scooped the puppy into her arms then cast a glance at her daughters, who were still eating. "Mummy will be right back," she said before retreating upstairs to deposit Sam back into his room. She left him with a warm blanket and a cuddly toy, then rushed back downstairs to check on the girls and heat a bottle. Much to her chagrin, she returned to find that Celeste had emptied the contents of her bowl onto the tray and had smeared it around.  
  
"Momma!" she exclaimed, pointing to her artwork, "Pretty!"  
  
Amelia groaned as she surveyed the mess--she would have to give the child a bath in order to remove all the oatmeal from her blonde tresses. She quickly made up her bottle, ran it to her son, then came back downstairs, only to find that the other two had joined in the art lesson.  
  
"Mummy," Tori grinned, "Mummy's boat!" One chubby finger pointed to a spot on her tray which her eldest likely thought looked like a ship. To Amelia, it was a blob of goo, and one she would have to mop up shortly. She pulled each child from her seat and hauled them to the downstairs guest bathroom, all the while lamenting the loss of one of her nicest green shirts to globs of hardening oatmeal.   
  
Bathing three wiggling girls was a task all by herself. Usually, she had Delbert to calm the girls, who were utterly charmed by their father's play with them. It took her a solid twenty minutes to get them all bathed, at which time she ushered them back upstairs for some clean clothes, all the while checking on Sam, who had fallen asleep, his mouth open as he breathed through congested pathways. She left the girls to play quietly on the floor for a moment while she traveled across the hall to where Delbert lay sleeping. He was breathing with labored breaths, the bed covered in handkerchiefs, the wastebasket by the bed a not-so-subtle reminder that his stomach had betrayed him more than once the night before. She touched his shoulder gently, and he grunted in response.  
  
"Did you want anything, dear?" she spoke softly to him.  
  
"No," he croaked. "I just need rest."  
  
"Nothing small to eat? Or tea, perhaps?"  
  
She grimaced as she watched him dry-heave. "No. No food."  
  
Amelia sighed. "Very well. Feel better dear."  
  
He looked up at her as she began to leave the room. "Taking care of the kids alright?"  
  
*Hmm. One's sick and the other three covered themselves in oatmeal.* "Everything's lovely dear."  
  
He nodded, then returned to sleep as Amelia closed the door behind her.  
  
When she returned to the nursery, Kate was peering through the bars of her brother's crib, staring at him as he slept. Celeste was tearing the carefully folded diapers off of the changing table, and Victoria was coughing loudly as she assisted her younger sister in the task. Amelia frowned.  
  
"Not you too?" she groaned as she pulled Tori toward her. Tori silently handed over the two diapers she had clutched in her hands to her mother before erupting in another series of coughs.  
  
"Momma, Tori's thirsty," she moaned. Amelia sighed. Two sick children and a sick husband weren't going to be a walk in the park.   
  
"Come on, Victoria," she said, scooping her eldest up, "Mummy will get you juice."  
  
As she descended the stairs to the kitchen, Amelia inwardly groaned. Could this day get any worse?  
  
*Yes.* she decided later. *I just HAD to think about it getting worse.* By nightfall, all four children were beginning to exhibit the same symptoms as their father.   
  
*Damn Delbert and his poor immune system! And damn him for passing it on to the kids! Never should have mated with that man....damn bad genes.* She still had yet to check to see if Delbert wanted any dinner, and Sam was crying again, wanting to be held and comforted during the peak of his fever. She scooped up the boy, cradling him close so as to hush him before he woke the three sneezing, coughing, feverish kittens, and proceeded to check on Delbert, who requested a bowl of soup. The only type she knew how to make was minestrone, and, of course, this would involve the chopping of vegetables amongst other things, meaning she would have to put time she didn't have into it. She had entered the kitchen, pulled out some fresh beans and tomatoes, all the while balancing Sam on her hip, who was leaning heavily on her shoulder. She sat him on a nearby chair and gave him a bottle, hoping that the liquid would keep him busy long enough for her to get something done. She cut the tomato once down the center and proceeded to chop it further, but was interrupted when the front doorbell sounded loudly. Letting out a grunt of frustration, she proceeded to the door, where her closest neighbor stood.  
  
"Ummm, sorry to bother you," she said, looking at Amelia's frazzled expression, "But this was mixed in with my mail. I believe it's yours." With that, she handed Amelia a long envelope.  
  
"Thank you," Amelia said distractedly before closing the door. She turned the envelope over in her hands. It was from Delbert's Alma Mater, and though it was addressed to him, she took the liberty of opening it. She skimmed the contents as she proceeded back to the kitchen to cook.   
  
By the time she had finished with dinner, she had put Sam back to bed, changed two diapers to two VERY cranky kittens, and managed to burn her finger on the stovetop while transferring the soup to a bowl. She brought the soup and the letter upstairs to her husband, who sat up slowly as she walked in.  
  
"Sorry it took so long," she apologized, handing him the dinner.  
  
He shook his head. "Not at all," he said, his voice hoarse, as if he were near to losing it.  
  
"This came from the University," she explained, holding up the letter.  
  
He groaned. "I'm far too tired to deal with that now..." he said, noting that the envelope was open, "Give me a summary."  
  
"They wanted to thank you for your data on their quasar project, Dr. Phillanus extends an invitation to a symposium in the spring, and Dr. Squanor reminds you that all the work for your journal article is due soon to 'Modern Astrophysics.'"  
  
Delbert's head shot up, a motion which made it ache further. "Damn, I forgot about that! I still have the paperwork to fill out!" He threw the covers from him, and stood, only to sway on his feet. Amelia steadied him as he clutched his head.  
  
"Are you alright?" she fretted.  
  
"I-the room just started spinning. It's...unusual."  
  
Amelia's face went hard. "You're getting back into bed."  
  
"But...my paper..."  
  
"Can wait! You'll catch your death, Delbert Doppler! Now get into bed before I break both your kneecaps so you're stuck there!"  
  
He looked at her flashing eyes and could tell she was quite serious--besides, he felt horrid and could certainly publish it in the next quarter. He nodded at her and returned his efforts to keeping down his dinner.   
  
"The kids--they're ok? They're not driving you crazy?"  
  
*Only all day long.* "No," she said, not wanting him to worry, "I'm handling it alright. I really could stand to lose one or two at times though."  
  
He chuckled, but it soon turned into a rasping, watery cough. "I know how you mean," he croaked out.  
  
She planted a kiss on his forehead and stood to leave the room. "Rest up, dear."  
  
  
  
When Delbert awoke the next morning, he didn't feel all that much better, but he was relieved that he could get out of bed and not nearly fall over. He wrapped a robe around him and headed for the bedroom door, hoping to grab himself something for his scratchy throat. As he emerged into the hallway, he threw a glance at the childrens' room. He decided to step in briefly, to check in on them, but not get close enough to get them sick.  
  
When he opened the door, his eyes took in two things: his children were still sound asleep, and his wife was asleep in a rocking chair placed in the center of the room, amongst the four cribs. In her left hand, she clutched a bottle of cough suppresant. *So, the kids ARE sick. Poor Amelia. Had to handle them all by herself.* In her right hand, she held a fountain pen, and papers were strewn all over the floor at her feet. He neared her, picking up one of the papers from the ground, anticipating cargo orders or repair bills. He read one handwritten page:  
  
Submission for 'Modern Astrophysics' Winter edition, (vol. 23)  
  
Name: Dr. Delbert Doppler  
  
Abstract: The light shift effects in the Star Systems of Uiil  
  
Institution: University of Montressor: College of Astronomy and Astrophysics   
  
  
  
She had filled out his submission paperwork! The gesture was just altogether so nice, he felt a lump rise in his throat--one which had nothing to do with his illness.  
  
By the time he had finished his reminiscing, he had made it all the way into the depths of town, only to find that most of the shops had closed down for the evening. Some were shut down a little earlier than usual, but Delbert suspected this was because of the bad weather. The only two places currently available to him were a cigar shop and a floral shop, and being that Amelia wasn't one to appreciate the art of Cutan cigars, he opted for flowers. They weren't the best idea in the world, but there again, nothing says "I'm a stupid, stupid husband please don't make me sleep on the couch" like a few red roses. He pulled his coat around him as he left the carriage and entered the tiny shop, intent on getting home quickly in order to apologize for his actions. He was already chilled to the bone, and he could only hope that Amelia would accept the blossoms as ample retribution for his comments--otherwise, he'd find it very hard to get warm again while he curled up on the armchair in his study.  
  
Amelia slammed the bedroom door behind her. She tore off her shirt and stripped off her pants, angrily throwing them onto the bed. She slipped into a black silken nightgown and plopped on the bed, where she gave one of the overstuffed pillows there a couple of good pounds with her fist.  
  
"Damn him," she growled, "Where the HELL does he get off, talking to me like that? How dare he imply...ugh! That man! I'll have his head when he gets back!" Amelia had heard him storm out the front door, and, at the moment, didn't care where he had flown to. She ran a hand through her hair, letting out a cry of frustration as she mulled over the matter. The insinuation Delbert had made hurt, to be sure, but she'd never admit to that. Better to deal with raw anger. Yes, she could handle that. She grumbled to herself about all the violent things she could (but never would) induce on her husband while she turned down the covers on her bed. She was about to climb into it when she heard a slight rapping on her bedroom door. She was about to snap at the person on the other end, thinking it to be Delbert, but instead was glad she bit back her words as her children entered, stepping cautiously into the room.  
  
"You should be in bed," Amelia said simply. None of the children budged; instead they looked at one another, trying to decide who should convey their thoughts first.  
  
"You and Daddy had a fight," Kate finally spoke.  
  
"And we can't sleep," Sam cut in, "Jimmy from school said his parents used to fight. Then they got a divorce. Now he doesn't see his Dad anymore. EVER."  
  
Amelia arched an eyebrow at the kids.  
  
Celeste looked up at her mother, obviously wanting to speak. The girl's lip trembled, and she exploded into tears as she threw her arms around her mother's legs. "I don't WANT Daddy to go away forever!" She buried her face in her mother's nightgown and began sobbing loudly.  
  
Amelia was taken aback to say the least. "What...?"  
  
"You're going to ::sob:: get a divorce ::sob:: and Daddy ::hiccup:: is never gonna see us!" she cried into Amelia's thigh, her words muffled.  
  
Amelia looked to her other children, who all looked as if they had come to a similar conclusion. She sighed, then pulled Celeste into her arms.  
  
"Now, now," she soothed, "Nothing of the sort is going to happen. We're not getting divorced."  
  
"But you FOUGHT," Tori pointed out.  
  
"Adults fight all the time, my dears," she said, reaching over and grabbing a handkerchief from her pant pocket's place on the bed. She dabbed at Celeste's face. "Just because we had a fight doesn't mean we're getting divorced."  
  
"It doesn't?" Kate asked.  
  
"No," Amelia laughed. "Your father and I have fought PLENTY of times before. Many times before you were even born. And I'm sure we'll fight until the day we die."  
  
Celeste sniffed.  
  
"But fighting doesn't necessarily equate to divorce," she continued. "People get divorced because they don't love one another anymore."  
  
"You still love Daddy, right?" Tori asked, her eyes begging for a positive answer.  
  
"Of course," Amelia snorted, as if the question were a stupid one. Her face softened and she kissed each child in turn. "Don't you worry about it. We'll work it out."  
  
"Why are you mad at him?" Kate asked.  
  
Amelia bit her lip. "You really should get to bed."  
  
Sam placed his hands on his hips and did his best to look stern. "We wanna know."  
  
"Yeah," Tori said, "Daddy made a special dinner for you. And bought a pretty gift--he let me help him wrap it!"  
  
"Yeah...how come you're mad at him if he got you nice things, Momma?" Celeste asked.  
  
"Was his dinner gross?" Kate enquired.  
  
"His french toast is gross," Sam stuck out his tongue.  
  
Amelia laughed. "No. We had a misunderstanding, I think. About our anniversary."  
  
Celeste's faces melted into that of a romantic dreamer. "Daddy said he wanted us to visit Miss Sarah so you could have your anniversary together. He said that he likes celebrating them with you--that it's his favorite day of the year...it's ROMANTIC. Like Snow White."  
  
Amelia sat on the bed. "He said that, did he?"  
  
Kate nodded. "He told us about when you got married. And showed us pictures."  
  
"You were pretty Momma," Tori complimented.  
  
"Like a princess," Celeste sighed, "I wanna have a dress like that when I get married."  
  
*Oh dear,* Amelia thought, *If Delbert only knew that his four-year-old daughter was already planning her wedding--he'd die of heart failure.*  
  
"He said every year you two have an anniversary is special to him...it was a whole lot of sissy stuff," Sam crinkled his nose.  
  
Celeste glared at her brother. "It's NICE. Anniversaries are lovely and wonderful. Right, Momma?"  
  
Amelia laughed. "Thinking back, I can't remember an anniversary of ours that wasn't disturbed by SOMETHING."  
  
"Huh?" Tori cocked her head.  
  
"Yes. Your father wanted to go to Sacol Prime on our first anniversary--but I was so heavily pregnant I could barely move! On our second anniversary, we were going to go to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, but the place burned down that morning when a stove exploded. Then, our third year, we had an evening planned, but we spent it in the emergency room; as I recall, Victoria was trying to climb up onto a rocking chair and fell off. Bumped her head and scared the living daylights out of your father and I! Last year, we were going to go downtown for the evening, but there was a horrid blizzard. We were stranded in the house."  
  
"Wow. You guys have crummy anniversaries," Sam pointed out.  
  
Amelia smiled. "Well, they weren't all bad. That first year, we stayed home and watched the meteor shower that was going on that year. Your father had bought me some delightful raspberry tarts. And although that restaurant burned down, we tried to concoct our favorite recipies anyway. When that didn't work, we had roast beef sandwhiches by candlelight; then we sat by the fire and looked at old wedding photos. When Tori hurt herself, we sat in the emergency room while they patched her up, and we talked about the very first time we met. Last year was nice too--after we finally got you four to go to bed."  
  
Celeste sighed. "That's so nice, Momma."  
  
Amelia grinned. "Yes, they were rather nice times. And we've had many in between."  
  
"So you're not making him go away?" Tori reassured herself.  
  
"No."  
  
The children all gave a sigh of relief.  
  
"Now off to bed with all of you--it's very late." She ushered the children to their rooms, tucked each one in with a kiss, then retreated back to her domiscile. She sat on her bed again, and stared out the massive window that flanked one wall of her room. The children had brought up some fond memories--ones which reminded her of just how good a husband Delbert had been to her. *Oh, but he was a dear then, and always had been to me,*she thought.  
  
  
  
Delbert awoke in the middle of the night when he noticed Amelia's side of the bed get cold. He opened his eyes to find that his wife wasn't there; well into late pregnancy, she often had trouble getting comfortable at night, and this worried him--she needed her rest. He rose from the bed and left to find her, eager to help her in any way. After a bit of searching, he found her in the kitchen, rumaging through the cupboards.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked, "It's almost 2 in the morning."  
  
"I'm hungry. What of it?" she answered.  
  
"Well, there's a load of purps," he gestured to the basket on the table, "And some leftover stew..."  
  
"No," she said, "No good. I need...I need pudding."  
  
"Pudding?"  
  
"Yes. Chocolate. Oh, and some Hir melon."  
  
"Together?" he grimaced.   
  
"No," she said. "But both sound very nice."  
  
He peered at her a moment as she searched the cabinets further. "I can't believe we don't have any cocoa!" she exclaimed.  
  
"We don't have any melon either," he explained.  
  
She frowned. "Well, I suppose I could go GET some."  
  
"Tonight?" his eyes bulged. "Where?"  
  
"Andretti's store. It's open all night."  
  
"It's in the next town over!"  
  
"It's not THAT far."  
  
"It's freezing outside! No!"  
  
Amelia narrowed her eyes. "You're ordering me?"  
  
"Y-yes! Yes! Yes, I am."  
  
She sighed. "I NEED that food."  
  
"Need?"  
  
"Delbert, you don't understand. I've never wanted pudding this badly in all my life. I can't explain it."  
  
He sighed. This wasn't the first time she had had a radical craving, but they usually came during daylight hours. "Fine. Fine. I'll go get you that cocoa."  
  
"And the melon?"  
  
"Yes. And the melon."  
  
She kissed his cheek. "Do bundle up, dear."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. He was throughly convinced that nature created weird cravings like this to make the fathers-to-be suffer as much (or more than) the mothers. He grabbed his thickest coat, and headed out to the stable to retrieve Delilah.  
  
It was a cold, long 40 minutes to the store. When he got there, he quickly grabbed the items he needed, lingering in the store only long enough to regain feeling in his freezing fingers. After a 40 minute return trip back, he took his purchases to the kitchen, where he promptly whipped up some warm pudding and sliced up the round melon. With a bowl in one hand and a plate in the other, he made his way upstairs to his room to give his wife her request. When he got there, he nearly dropped the china in frustration--Amelia was asleep, curled up on the bed, sleeping soundly. He toyed briefly with the idea of waking her, but then decided against it--it was hard enough for her to fall asleep nowdays, and he thought it kinder to let her sleep. He pulled the blankets over her and kissed her cheek before turning off the lamps completely and leaving the room, now stuck with the duty of eating pudding he didn't want in the first place.  
  
  
  
Amelia blinked once to clear her mind of the image of Delbert sitting at the kitchen table the next morning, head in his arms, a bowl of half-eaten pudding by his side and a trusty spoon in his left hand. She stood from the bed and ran her hands through her hair. Delbert cared about her--always had; that much was clear. According to the children, he still held deep affections for her, so it was quite likely that the actual act of being late had been the only thing driving his rage to the point of their current status. *IS it my fault?* she asked herself, *I mean, bloody hell, what was I supposed to do? I can't make the clients see reason any faster than their thick skulls will allow and I can't make the shuttles go faster than they are allowed to go. What does he WANT from me?* She paced the room, stopping only when her gaze fell upon a wrapped parcel on her small vanity where she'd brush her hair at night. *'He got you nice things.' That's what the children said.* She walked over to the wooden stand, pulled the package into her hands and stared at the deep royal purple trappings. *I wonder what he got me?* She tore the white ribbon around the box free and removed the wrapping paper. Upon opening the box, she found an intricate wooden structure the shape of a quarter-circle and a note, written in Delbert's messy, but familiar handwriting.  
  
Dearest Amelia,  
  
Well, here you have it. Five long years as man and wife. But...you KNEW that already...wow, do I even blabble when I write? Well, regardless if I do, know it's only because I am so utterly stunned and breathless everytime I see you. Traditionally, it's customary to give a wooden object on your fifth anniversary, and I had to think a bit, but I think this is appropriate. It's an astrolabe, ancient Canian design--I came across it on my trip to visit my aunt. I know you have that rather stunning collection of old maps and globes in your stateroom, so I thought this would be an appropriate addition to your naval memorablia. I hope that you at least enjoy it, as I know no amount of anything--wood, astrolabes, or otherwise--could supply you with as much joy as you've given me this last half-decade by serving as my wife. I can only hope we spend many more years together (plus it might be lucrative to you--it's traditional to give diamonds on your sixtieth you know!).   
  
Here's to 55 more years, my love,  
  
Delbert  
  
Amelia frowned. It was going to be SO much harder to stay angry with him if he just kept on doing lovely things like this. She sighed and placed the gift back onto the table gently. *Perhaps I WAS being a little inconsiderate tonight. While the delay was certainly not my fault--and I'll maintain this until my death--I may have been just a little harsh with him about losing his temper. The kids were right...he did go alot of effort. And maybe I was a little passive about his feelings. And I DID snap at him for his frustrations. I mean, telling him to sleep on the COUCH...really... * She rubbed her eyes as she sat on the bed again. It wasn't like this was the first time she had overreacted about anything in their relationship, and it wasn't the first time she was feeling slightly guilty for hurting Delbert with her poorly-planned acid words.  
  
It was the end of a brief mission to a nearby system--something unintelligible with six or seven consonants in a row that Amelia wouldn't dare try to pronounce. Though the objective was merely cargoing frieght, numerous mechanical errors had made the trip more trouble than it was truly worth, and she was ready to settle down at Crescentia again. Her crew was swift and efficient in docking the Legacy, and in a mere half an hour, the docking personnel was already on board, unloading the shipments from the planet Amelia would only refer to in retrospect as "Q." She was observing the actions on deck as the crew secured the ship and helped remove the boxes from the spotless deck when she caught slight, timid movements out of the corner of her eye. Delbert had just managed to sneak on board the ship. They had been courting for nearly a half a year now, and Amelia found it quite surprising that the length of time had given Delbert the confidence (audacity?) to just waltz on board while she was still in the process of a job. She frowned as he approached the bridge; they hadn't seen each other in weeks, and she was sliently hoping that he was smart enough not to go seeking a warm "welcome home" moment in front of the men. He smiled silently at her as he climbed the stairs to the bridge.   
  
"Captain," he addressed her, nodding in her direction.  
  
*Thank goodness, he DOES have some sense.* "Doctor. If you'll give me the time, I should be done within the hour."  
  
"Take all the time you need, Captain," he smiled at her.   
  
Amelia felt slightly weak in the knees at seeing her beau after such a time away, but she deftly hid it behind her tough captain's mask. She was about to return to her supervisory role when she was called out to by a merchant.  
  
"Captain! This was the WHOLE shipment?"  
  
"Yes," Amelia said, "He gave me thirty crates."  
  
"That, dirty, lying SCOUNDREL!" the merchant swore, "He promised me double that!"  
  
"You're certain?" Amelia asked.  
  
"Yes! Yes, I'm certain!" he cried as he stormed up to the bridge, "You must go back and secure the rest!"  
  
Amelia blinked at him. "You want me to make ANOTHER trip?"  
  
"I paid for 60 crates. I paid for the SHIPMENT of 60 crates. I WILL get 60 crates, dammit!"  
  
Amelia groaned. She'd kill that fat trader on "Q."  
  
"I'm sure I can work something out with you," she began, "But my men are tired. They need shore leave."  
  
"And I need those crates! I INSIST you leave immediately to retrieve them!"  
  
"I told you..." Amelia began.  
  
"And I told YOU," the merchant cut in, "What part don't you understand, woman?"  
  
Amelia's face contained barely-restrained rage, and she opened her mouth to speak out, but was beat to it.  
  
"How dare you speak to my Amelia that way!" Delbert burst out, his voice loud enough to call the attention of half the deck hands to the bridge.  
  
Amelia inwardly fumed. Not only was this merchant giving her trouble, now Delbert was just blabbing to the entirety of her crew that they were seeing one another. Oh, the punishments she'd have to give them to make up for them hearing this one.  
  
"Sir," Amelia growled, "I've already made it perfectly clear that I'm willing to negotiate with you. The fact of the matter is, I can't even leave port until I get clearance anyway--and THAT in itself will take three days."  
  
"Oh..." the merchant said sheepishly, "I forgot about that. Three days, huh?"  
  
"Yes," Amelia said, exasporatively, "I'll head back to that godforsaken verbal monsterosity in three days."  
  
"Hmm. Fair enough. Three days, then." And with that, the merchant walked away.  
  
"Well, he was an unpleasant fellow, wasn't he?" Delbert said, watching the man leave.  
  
Amelia only pursed her lips in response and glared at him. "My stateroom. NOW."  
  
She thrust him into the confines of the room, locked the doors, and whirled on him, eyes blazing.  
  
"What the HELL were you thinking?" she spat.  
  
He reeled back, clearly not understanding. "A-about?"  
  
"'My Amelia?' What did I say about keeping a low-profile on board my ship!?"  
  
"W-well, I...I thought that was only a rule you enforced during the early stages of our relationship--you know, while we weren't 'official.' I don't see why it's so bad that your crew know you're seeing a man in a steady, loving relationship."  
  
"Well, let me tell you why it's 'so bad' that my men know I'm attached to a bumbling, middle-aged, academic--It effectively RUINS any image of the 'unattached, controlled Captain' I've worked years to be!"  
  
"Ruins?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Yes! They can't SEE me with YOU! Do you have any idea how embarassing your outburst was? And to a CLIENT no doubt!"  
  
"I embarass you," he deadpanned.  
  
Amelia slammed a fit on the table. "Dammit, are paying attention to the problematic nature of this at all?"  
  
Delbert cocked his chin at her. "I'm sorry. I got caught up in the part where it was unsavory for you to be associated with the likes of myself in a romantic nature. Please, continue."  
  
Amelia gaped at him. "I did NOT imply that at all and you know it."  
  
"Showing your men that you care about me--or care about me caring about you--you called it 'embarassing.' You made it known that it was 'bad' that you could be found attached to someone like myself. I know very well what you implied," he said, his eyes hard, but clouded over with hurt.  
  
Amelia raised an eyebrow at those eyes. *He couldn't have possibly taken my words and twisted them that badly...* "You're reading too much into this. I simply need to maintain status onboard."  
  
"You simply could have said that."  
  
"You KNEW that! But you go ahead and start picking fights with mechants--fights I could have handled myself, thank you."  
  
"Well, I'm sorry I felt that sticking up for the woman I love was something a good man should do. I won't do it again. Assuming that you're not so ashamed by being associated with me that there will be an 'again.'"  
  
Amelia bit her lip. He was being difficult, but he only really got this way under two circumstances: when she was making fun jabs at him about his messy observatory and late-night job, and when she had truly hurt him. Being that she had made no reference to the ludicrous hours he kept or the inches of dust on his shelves, she assumed it was the latter.  
  
"You're taking this way out of context," Amelia explained. "I'll admit, maybe my word choice was...poor--but I never intended to imply you weren't good enough for me."  
  
Delbert sulked, glaring at the floor.  
  
"You're not going to mope all day, are you?"  
  
He grunted in response.  
  
She laughed. "Stop being such a bloody ninny. I apologized."  
  
"Yeah, I guess," he sighed, "But I can't help but think that's how you truly feel, deep down."  
  
It was Amelia's turn to frown. "Delbert, I mean this with only the utmost sincerity: You've been nothing but light in my life. I'd tell the whole world if I could, but the fact of the matter is that very few men respect female sailors; In lieu of that, I have to maintain my image as 'almost-one-of-the-guys.' If they saw me falling head over heels for a man who stuck up for me, I'd lose that facade. But the fact that I wear the mask doesn't hide the fact that, underneath it, I'm madly in love with you."  
  
He smiled at her, his pain melting from his face at her words. "I'm sorry. I guess I...uh... overreacted."   
  
Amelia smiled back. "As did I. Truce?" she asked, extending a hand for him to shake.  
  
"Truce," he agreed, taking her hand and pulling her into a kiss.   
  
When they broke apart, Amelia spoke. "While I'd love to continue this course of action, I have some final duties to attend to."  
  
He nodded, heading for the door.  
  
"And Delbert?" she called, just before he opened it.  
  
"Yes?" he asked.  
  
"I meant every word I said. But if you ever forget to refer to me as 'Captain' onboard my ship again, I'll have you flogged within an inch of your life."  
  
"Aye, Captain," he laughed, pulling the door open for his love.  
  
Amelia almost laughed aloud at the irony of it all--at how similar that argument was to the one they had just had. Though this time, she wasn't willing to take ALL the blame...Still, she could often be too harsh on Delbert; the man had turned out to be almost surprisingly perfect for her, and she sometimes forgot that he wasn't completely perfect and as suseptible to having his feelings hurt as she was. She sighed again. *Well, we sure made a huge mess out of this evening.* She laid back in the bed as she thought the situation over--no matter where they pointed the blame, and to what degree, she owed him an apology, and vowed to swallow her pride and wait up for him to give him what he deserved. She rose from the bed, grabbed a robe, and headed downstairs in order to catch Delbert when he first arrived at home.  
  
********  
  
  
  
He almost found it hard to believe, but it the weather ACTUALLY succeeded in getting colder. Clutching three fully bloomed roses in his right hand, he held his large coat closed with his left as he emerged from Delilah's stall and headed for the front door. His mind was a feverish whirlwind as he tried to think up an ample apology to his wife. He trudged up the large steps to the massive front doors slowly; he was no good at speeches--no matter how hard he planned this, it would come out sounding wrong. Prepared or not, he couldn't very well stand out there all night and catch his death...he would have to face the wrath of Amelia sooner or later. Taking a deep breath, he slowly pushed open the front door.  
  
Amelia was sitting on the bottom step of the stairway, pulling at her robe while she looked around the place. With the children asleep and Delbert gone, the mansion seemed impossibly large, quiet, and cold. She was about to head to the kitchen for some tea to drink while she waited when she heard the front doorknob turn. Her eyes flew to the doorway as a snow-covered Delbert stepped in.  
  
Delbert almost jumped out of his skin when he saw Amelia there; he had expected to at least have a few more seconds in the house to collect his thoughts while he hung his coat and headed off to locate her. In any case, he definitely did not expect her to be waiting for him. He shut the door behind himself, and the couple stood sliently for a moment, staring at each other.  
  
Amelia spoke up first. "You're dripping snow all over the foyer."  
  
Delbert looked down. His coat was dripping from freshly melted snow. He began to feel the fabric soak his inner layers, and despite the heat in the house, he was suddenly very cold. He shivered. "So I am. Sorry."  
  
Amelia clicked her tongue at him then reached for the coat. "You'll freeze if you stay in this much longer. Come now, take it off." She helped him pull off the wet coat and proceeded to hang it as Delbert stood there, shuffling his feet and passing the flowers from hand to hand. When she turned around to face him, he thrust them at her.  
  
"For you," he said, "I realize it's only a small token, considering some of the things I said tonight, but I wanted to let you know I'm...well, sorry."  
  
Amelia arched an eyebrow at him as she took the roses. She admired them a moment, then sighed. God, but she hated apologizing.  
  
"I suppose I owe you and apology also. I shouldn't have told you to sleep on the couch."  
  
"You mean I don't have to?" Delbert's face perked up.  
  
Amelia chuckled. "No. It's a bit too cold for that. Just don't mess up in the summertime--I may not be so generous."  
  
Delbert rubbed his neck. "Ha. Yes, well...I'll remember that. I'm glad to hear you forgive me, though."  
  
Amelia smiled. "And I'm glad you forgive me. We were both being silly, really."  
  
"Wasting our anniversary fighting."  
  
"Mmm. But the best part of our fights is that they always come to a peaceful end."  
  
"True, my dear. We really do have a good understanding with each other."  
  
"For the most part. Even when you DO lose your temper."  
  
Delbert frowned. "I wouldn't have lost my temper had you been on time."  
  
Amelia narrowed her eyes at him, but grinned. "Doctor, are you picking another fight with me?"  
  
Delbert's frown crept into a smile. She was playing with him! "Perhaps I am."  
  
"Very well then. I don't see much hope in you winning. What with your clumsy retorts."  
  
"Well, shows how much you know then, Captain," he said, coming closer to her to look her in the eyes, "I spent my entire evening thinking of ways to best you in an argument."  
  
"Didn't blow a fuse up there, did you?" she asked, tapping his brow.  
  
"Catty woman," he said, getting close to her face.  
  
"Foolish man," she hissed.  
  
"Stubborn feline."  
  
"Inarticulate canid."  
  
"Witch."  
  
"Scoundrel."  
  
They met in a passionate kiss, with Amelia pinning Delbert to the foyer wall. The two of them remained there for several minutes, holding each other, Delbert's hands on her waist, and Amelia's hands in his damp hair. When the kiss finally ended, Delbert stared wide-eyed at Amelia, who was grinning ferally.   
  
"Shall we take this argument to the bedroom?" she purred.  
  
Delbert didn't need telling twice. In one deft movement, his stooped, picked Amelia up, and began to ascend the stairs. "Of course. I still have a bone or two to pick with you."  
  
"Oh?" she blinked innocently as they reached the floor with their room, "Well, looks like you'll have to give me a good thrashing then--It'll take a lot to win an argument with me."  
  
"I'm up to the challenge," he remarked, shoving the bedroom door open and treading across the room to place her on the bed.  
  
"Is the door locked?" she asked, giving her husband a lusty look.  
  
Doppler's grin broadened from ear to ear. "No--b-but I'll rectify that!" He breezed toward the large doors leading from their bedchambers to the main hall, stopping only to right his balance when he tripped over an antique area rug. He quickly set the locks and turned back toward his wife.  
  
"Come here, doctor," she purred, "Let's get this new fight over with so we can kiss and make up."  
  
Doppler smiled like a fool as he followed his wife to bed. As he recalled, the LAST time they had had a huge falling out and had "kissed and made up..." well, he had been left to have many arguments with his wife over baby names afterwards. He felt her hands on his collar as she pulled him down onto the bed with her. As she kissed his neck and muttered an "I love you," Delbert pondered to himself.  
  
*You know, she IS leaving for a few weeks tomorrow...I wonder what I could say tomorrow morning to get her really riled up before she has to leave. I believe I rather like the reconciliation process that follows."  
  
He pulled her into a long, hard kiss.  
  
*Yes, I do believe we have some of the very nicest arguments.*  
  
Er...no to be continued. Wow...that feels weird.  
  
Well, you made it to the end. You know what that means...REVIEW!!  
  
Aloha,  
  
J. 


End file.
